Little...Tykes?
by Fidget
Summary: Silly skit-style thing I wrote one night and at last decided to post. Includes a unique look at Megabyte and Hexadecimal's upbringing (despite the fact that they HAD no upbringing, call it AU)


A/N: So here I am. Typing a fic. At two am. I'm barely conscious. I haven't been up this late/early since Summer. Look at that, those sentences should be switched. I'm so sleepy, my paragraph's structure is losing it's integrity! AGH! Run for your lives! I'm maybe gonna try and stay up all night, just 'cause.

Explanation: It's a fic inspired (in an odd sort of way) by Kim McFarland's video...uh...(tries to remember name of video) Hyperactive! Yeah! Those videos are the reason I'm still up! I finally downloaded RealPlayer8 and was able to play the stupid things...downloaded four or five of 'em. Anyway, watching her get fried by a game cube to happy-go-lucky music made me laugh (like most stuff will at this un-Daemonly hour) and think of a mischievious child. Huh, fun.

I have got to quit blaming crappy fics on those poor videos. Wherever you are, Kim, I apologize!

Apology: I'm sorry for hurting your somewhat-reasonable and consciencious brains with this. Really, I am. Oh, and sorry to Kim McFarland again for blaming this on her unintentionally.

Feedback or/xor Rearchiving: You can contact me at fidget_wilson@hotmail.com, 's'like usual.

* * *

(A red woman who's legs are not attached to her body and wearing an apron is standing at a kitchen sink. A red and blue blur whizzes past her and knocks over a chair. She turns and looks angry, putting a hand on her hip. Her chin is humongous.)

Red Woman: Megabyte, Hexadecimal! You stop that this instant! You know what I've told you about running in the lair!

Children: (sulkily) Yes, mother.

Mother: And go wash your hands! Breakfast is nearly ready.

Hexadecimal: (young, five or six User years old) Oo, can we have waffles?!

Megabyte: (older but young, nine or ten User years old) Oh, we had waffles yesterday! Do let's have something else.

Hexadecimal: (pouty) But I want waffles!

Megabyte: Log off!

Mother: Stop bickering and go wash!

(A tall, blue man resembling Megabyte but with a horribly weak chin enters the room and sits down at the table. He opens a VidWindow marked "The Viral Secondly" and crosses his legs while he reads it.)

Hexadecimal: (returning from washing hands) Finished first, I win!

Megabyte: (from off screen, presumably washing still) You're not fair, you didn't use soap or wait for the water to warm up!

Father: (not looking up from paper) Hexadecimal, go wash your hands correctly.

Hexadecimal: But I-

Mother: Don't question your father!

Hexadecimal: (disappointed) Oh...(sulks away to wash hands)

Megabyte: (reappearing) Ha-ha! What is for breakfast, Mother?

Mother: (setting a plate in front of him) Fried nulls, dear.

Megabyte: (making a face) Eugh! Why do I have to eat these?

Father: Because your mother told you to! Now, eat and stop complaining!

(shrieking is heard from the general direction of the bathroom. Mother, Father, and Megabyte all rush back to find Hexadecimal staring wide-eyed at her finger. There is an electrical outlet in front of her.)

Mother: (recovering from fright, therefore angry) Hexadecimal! What have I told you about playing with electricity?! You could have killed yourself!

Hexadecimal: But it felt nice! Like I was eating...(eyes light up brighter) Like I was eating lots of waffles!

Father: (laying a hand on his wife/partner/mother-of-his-children's shoulder) She is a Chaos Virus, dear. She doesn't really need food so much as energy-

Mother: (eyes flashing) She will eat her breakfast!

Father, Megabyte, and Hexadecimal: Yes, ma'am.

* * *

(In the kitchen. The father has finished eating and is reading the paper again. Megabyte is poking at his now cold fried nulls unenthusiastically. Hexadecimal is concentrating on getting a piece on to her fork with her other hand)

Megabyte: Mother, do I have to-

Mother: Yes.

Megabyte: -Oh.

Father: They're worse when they're cold, son. You best eat them up fast.

Mother: No one is leaving the table until every speck of food is eaten off those plates.

Hexadecimal: (excited) Oh! I got it! (she sticks the lump into her mouth quickly. Then, waving a hand over her face, she looks disgusted) Eew! It's all cold and nasty! I won't eat it! I want waffles! (she knocks her plate over violently with one hand, pouting. The fried nulls go in all directions, a few sticking to Megabyte's chin and landing on his plate. He looks at them with wide eyes)

Megabyte: I am not going to eat them now!

Mother: (suddenly doting) Oh, you've gone and spilt your breakfast all over the table! You'll be hungry before lunch!

Hexadecimal: (throwing an award-winning fit) I don't want lunch! I want waffles! (she blasts the table backwards, slamming it and the plates against the wall and rendering any thought of Megabyte's finishing his breakfast impossible)

Father: (not looking up) Her baby powers are coming in nicely, I see.

Mother: (excited) Oh, Hexadecimal! You just used your first power blast! Aren't you proud?

Hexadecimal: (seeing how she can use the situation to her advanage) Yes. I should get waffles.

Mother: (swept away by motherly-pride) Of course you should! Come over here and help me fix them. Megabyte? Set the table back up, will you, dear?

Megabyte: (under his breath) Oh, of course. Why not? Waffles, indeed...

* * *

A/N: Well, I'm done. You can all go home. Wait! Interested in being a beta-reader for me? I don't care if it's one fic or a full-time thing. I just want beta-readers! Not beta-retard, which is what that always looks like to me...


End file.
